The Toughest Play

2. Autumn

CHAPTER 2

AUTUMN

I finish watching the reel I’ve put together, making sure everything is cohesive. I like to choose songs that go along with or relate to the emotion of the footage in some way. I’m sure I overthink my choices and any song would do, but that’s not my way. And since I just got the position as the social media manager for the Virginia Silverbacks football team, I need to do everything right. This job is a dream come true for me. The pay is good, the benefits are great, and it allows me to utilize my creativity. And although this isn’t how I imagined I’d be taking advantage of my graphic design degree, it’s still proving helpful for me.

Best of all, I only work with two other people, so I don’t need to be overly social. And Frankie and Lisa are already proving to be solid assistants.

I post the reel to the Silverbacks’ social media pages, and the number of views and comments immediately begin to ratchet upward. The footage I used is from the throwing contest between the backup quarterback and the starting quarterback. I thought it would be nice to give the fans a glimpse of something different than what they’ve been seeing.

Gayle, the former social media manager, shared a lot of predictable footage. I plan to be more calculated and original about what I post. The team’s loyal followers deserve nothing less.

I log out and shut down my computer before leaving my office. I give a quick wave to Lisa as we pass by each other.

“See you tomorrow,” she calls out.

As I round the corner, I reach the building’s foyer, which is bustling with people on their way out the front door. I file into the line, and when I finally step outside, I find my best friend, Scarlett, waiting for me.

She smiles. “Hey, roomie.”

My lips curve in response. “Hi. Have you been waiting long?”

“Not even a minute. I was running a little behind and thought I was going to be late.” Scarlett is the one person I’ve clicked with since we met in high school. She’s never seen my naturally prickly personality as a deterrent. In fact, I think she looked at my standoffishness as a personal challenge for her to break through. Lucky for me, the word quit isn’t in her vocabulary and she wore me down.

“Let’s go. I’m hungry enough to eat a cow.”

“Eww, Autumn. That’s a gross analogy.”

I shrug. “I didn’t say a live one.”

We walk along the pavement in front of my workplace until we come to the sidewalk that runs throughout Silverbacks Plaza. There are multiple restaurants and businesses located here as well as the stadium itself.

“What are you in the mood for?” I ask.

“Hmm, how about tacos and queso?”

“Sounds great, and it’s close by,” I say.

The Mexican restaurant is already busy, but we find an available high-top table near the bar. The waitress makes her way over, and we place our order.

“How was work?” she asks.

“It was great. I’m enjoying it even more than I thought I would.”

She smiles. “I’m so happy for you.”

The waitress drops off our margaritas, queso, and chips, and we both eagerly dig in.

“You’ll be surprised to hear I even like my assistants. They’re all about work and don’t seem to need small talk.”

“Sounds like a perfect fit for you.” She dips a piece of tortilla chip in the cheese and then pops it in her mouth.

“Exactly.”

“Tell me what your day was like. Did you stay in your office or get out and about?” she asks.

“I had things to take care of this morning, but we went to the practice field this afternoon. Brett and Rogan, the backup quarterback, exchanged some words.”

“Uh-oh. Could you hear what they were saying?”

“No, but I could see Brett’s smug expression.”

“Oh jeez. So Brett was being his usual self?”

“Be nice. You know he’s a good guy at heart,” I reply in his defense.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, he’s a real peach. Autumn, his ego is enormous. You, of all people, should know that. He’s your ex, after all.”

“I won’t argue with you on that. I’ve tried to get him to take it down a notch, but he doesn’t listen.”

“A notch?” She laughs.

I hold my palms up. “He is what he is. I’ve done everything I can to help him chill out, but it’s not his way.”

“How you two are still friends after your relationship ended, I’ll never understand.”

“We were together for a long time. I may not love him anymore but I still care about him.”

“Yeah, but you’re total opposites.”

“You and I are different and it’s not a problem.”

“You’re quiet, unassuming, and kind. He’s loud, arrogant, and selfish.”

“Oh, come on, he has his moments.”

We pause to sip from our margaritas. As I set my glass down, I lick the tart liquid and salt from my lips.

My phone pings, alerting me of a text message from my ex.

Brett: What the hell, Autumn?

My eyebrows pinch together.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Brett’s pissed off.”

She snorts. “So what’s new?”

Me: What are you talking about?

Why did you post that footage from this afternoon?

It’s my job.

You made me look bad.

I made him look bad?

You didn’t look bad. You’re their numero uno.

“What’s he mad at?” Scarlett asks.

“After he and Rogan got into it, the coaches made them have a throwing contest.”

“I’d like to see that.”

“Well, I posted it on the Silverbacks’ social media pages, so you can. Unfortunately, Brett noticed and now he’s saying I made him look bad.”

“He lost the contest?” she asks.

“Yeah, badly. Rogan was spot on the target and Brett wasn’t even close.”

“Oh boy. I bet that didn’t go over well.”

“Yeah, that’s why he’s mad about the footage. But it’s the whole point of my new job, and I thought the fans would love seeing something different.”

My phone dings again, and I sigh.

Brett: You should have my back more than anyone.

Me: And I always do. Don’t make a huge deal out of this. The fans probably love seeing something new posted.

They’re talking shit about me on the post. You should hide their comments.

“Why are your frown lines deepening?” she asks.

I glance up from my phone screen. “He wants me to hide the negative comments directed at him.”

“That’s not your job. You’re not his freaking PR manager.”

“I know, but now I feel guilty because I’m the one who put him in this position.”

She shakes her head. “No, he got himself into that mess on his own. If he could control his mouth, he wouldn’t have had to compete against the backup. You need to stop letting him manipulate you.”

“I feel bad for him.”

“He’s not the only person who grew up in a shitty situation,” she says.

“I know, but it really affected him.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re still defending him.”

“You’re right. Ugh.”

The waitress sets a plate of tacos in the middle of the table and asks if we need anything else.

“No, thank you,” I say before she hurries off.

Conversation dries up as we both focus on eating our tacos. My phone pings again. I’m tempted to ignore it, but what if it’s something work related?

Brett: Why aren’t you hiding the negative comments?

“Is that him again?” Scarlett asks.

“Yep.”

She holds out her hand. “Give me that.” I pass the phone across the table to her and silently watch as her thumbs furiously tap against the screen. “There.” She slides the phone across the table to me.

“What did you say?”

She grins. “What you’re too nice to say.”

I pull up the text chain and read the last one I sent.

Me: I’m not your fucking public relations firm. Get over yourself.

“Oh jeez,” I say.

She nods, smirking. “Succinct and clear.”

“I hope it’s effective. At least until after I’m done eating.”

“Right? Tacos are always a priority,” she states.

“I hope taking this job wasn’t a mistake,” I say, voicing my concern.

“Why are you saying that? Because of Brett?”

“Yeah. This is an amazing opportunity for me, but by working for the team, I’ve put myself in an impossible situation. I’ll be posting things the fans will like but Brett might not.”

“Tough shit. He’s a grown-ass man,” she says, then holds up her hand. “Let me reword that. He’s supposed to be a grown-ass man, and you’re not responsible for protecting his fragile ego.”

“I know, but I don’t want to hurt him or paint him in a bad light.”

She expels a puff of air and her lips sputter. “He does a fine job of that himself.”

I rub my hand over my stomach. “Let’s not talk about Brett Barlow anymore. He has a habit of giving me indigestion.”

Her lips flatten into a grimace. “You’re lucky that’s all he gave you.”

“Ouch, low blow.”

“I know, but it’s true,” she states. “You had a full checkup after you caught him with his pants down, right?” she asks, and I nod.

I literally caught him with his pants around his ankles, banging a famous model over the back of his couch. Being reminded your ex cheated on you is bad enough, but when it’s with a famous model, it really sucks. Even after two years have passed.

Brett swore that was the first time the two of them were together, but I’ve always wondered if he was being honest with me.

If he didn’t have qualms about putting his dick in another woman, why would he have them about lying to me?